Irresistible Chapter 3: Blaine
by Violet-Amy
Summary: Sam puts on Brittany's old Cheerios uniform. Wearing it does things to him...and to everyone who sees him in it. From a GKM prompt. Chapter 3: Sam turns to Blaine to help him decide what he should do with the uniform. Only problem: Blaine needs to be convinced of its powers.


**A/N: Not a new fic; I'm reposting the chapters of Irresistible as individual stories so that they can each be tagged for the correct characters. If you're new to Irresistible and care about the plot (such as it is), you should read the stories in order.**

He really can't decide what to do next, though. Now that he knows the power of the uniform he feels like just springing it on any more unsuspecting people would make him sort of a rapist. He should probably just bury the thing in the backyard, but the thought of letting it go to waste like that is extremely unappealing.

So he calls Blaine and says, "I need your help." Blaine, of course, tells him to come right over, because he's an awesome bro like that. He changes into his street clothes, puts the uniform in his backpack, and heads out.

In the hallway he passes Becky, and he freezes and presses himself against the wall. He's hopes, god he hopes, that the uniform only works if he's wearing it and not just carrying it. Because of all the people he'd feel terrible about taking advantage of...

He watches warily as she walks past and notices with relief the absence of lustful stirrings. Becky's apparently not feeling anything either; she scowls at him and says, "What are you staring at, mophead?" Even though this seems to prove he's totally safe as long as he's not actually wearing the outfit, it feels like a close call, and he runs out to his car in the parking lot.

Blaine gives him a puzzled look when he opens the door to let him in. "Why are you holding your backpack like that? Don't tell me you've got another cat in there."

"Sue," Sam explains, glancing around. Blaine's front yard has a lot of landscaping a person could be hiding behind. "I can't let her get what's in here."

"Principal Sylvester?" Blaine asks, and now he's looking around too. "Do you think she followed you here?"

"With her, who knows?"

Blaine nods and says, "Well, get in. Quick." He pulls Sam inside, locks the door, and shuts the curtains. "What've you got? Info that'll bring her down?"

"No, dude." Sam looks at Blaine like he's crazy. "It's a magic Cheerios uniform."

"A magic Cheerios uniform? O...kay." He reaches to reopen one of the curtains, but Sam grabs his arm.

"Dude, you don't believe me?"

"Considering you just used the word magic..."

"Right. My bad. It's not magic, it's actually some super-classified scientific dealie. Really high tech. You wouldn't understand."

"Uh-huh."

"Not that you're too dumb or anything...I mean, I don't really understand it myself...but that's just because Principal Sylvester wasn't at liberty to divulge too many details..."

Blaine can't even imagine what kind of bullshit Sue Sylvester was trying to feed Sam, or more importantly why. "Maybe that's because there are no details to divulge," he suggests as gently as he can. He doesn't want to imply that he thinks Sam is overly gullible or anything. "Maybe it's just an ordinary cheerleading uniform that for some reason she wants you to think—"

"Nuh-uh," Sam says definitively. "This is no ordinary uniform. I've seen it in action. I've seen its powers."

Blaine dramatically pulls him into the dining room. "Then for god's sake get away from the door, Blond Chameleon, and tell me about its sinister powers!"

Sam crosses his arms. "Dude, I came to you for advice, and you either think I'm joking around or you think I'm an idiot."

"I don't think you're stupid, Sam," Blaine says, trying to sound conciliatory. "I admit I thought maybe you were joking, but..." He pulls out a chair for Sam and sits in one himself. "Tell me about the sinister powers."

Sam doesn't sit. "I didn't say they were sinister! They're actually awesome."

Sam's acting really serious, so Blaine is at a loss. "Okay. Well, I can't offer any advice if you don't tell me what _awesome_ powers the outfit has."

"Okay, so...I put the thing on and it...it makes me totally irresistible. Like, chicks who see me in it can't help themselves, they're all over me. And I assume it works on gay dudes too. And maybe even straight dudes, I probably should have asked, but probably it does work on them too, because, I mean, it worked—"

"Sam. That's not magic. You're a good looking guy. And those Cheerios uniforms...well, lots of people have a thing for cheerleaders, even girls for guys who are cheerleaders..." As Blaine has discovered the awkward way on an occasion or two.

"I'm not just saying I look hot in it. That goes without saying. I'm saying people can't keep their hands off me. People who...I mean, they probably thought I was hot already, but they never _did_ anything about it. And, uh, it works on me too..."

"You can't keep your hands off yourself?"

"No, off them. The girls...the people who can't keep their hands off me. It's mutual."

"Well, that's normal. Everyone is turned on by someone being into them."

"Not when the someone is Sue Sylvester," Sam mutters.

Blaine leans forward, but he misses what Sam says. "What?"

"I said, You're not going to believe me until I show you, are you?" Sam really didn't want to spring the thing on anyone unsuspecting, but it's not like he hasn't been _trying_ to warn him. And honestly, he really, really wants to find out if it works with dudes, and there's no dude he'd rather find out with than Blaine.

"So show me!" Blaine says, letting a slight note of exasperation creep into his voice.

"Fine, I will!" Sam storms out of the dining room to change, but he pops his head back in a couple seconds later. "Just to be really clear...if we see each other when I'm wearing this thing, we're going to end up having sex. For real, I mean."

"Got it," Blaine says as he leans back in his chair and puts his feet up on the one he offered to Sam a few minutes ago. "You have to be the one to explain to Kurt why it's not cheating."

Wow, Blaine is really annoying sometimes. It would serve him right if Sam _didn't_ put on a miniskirt and fuck him. Except that he's really curious now, and besides, the look on Blaine's face when he realizes how wrong he was is going to be fucking priceless.

Sam changes in the guest bathroom, and when he reenters the dining room the look on Blaine's face is, indeed, fucking priceless.

He shouldn't be so surprised—he actually knew what was coming this time—but seeing Blaine knocks the breath out of him. He totally forgets about wanting to rub it in that he was right and every other pointless and trivial thing because he _needs to fuck Blaine super bad_.

Blaine takes one look at Sam in that Cheerios get-up—and Sam did _not_ mention it was a girls' uniform, which should actually make him a lot less hot, in Blaine's opinion, but which does not make him less hot _at all_ —and he just...he can't even...His legs—Jesus fucking Christ! And his ass and his...! Sam does a little twirl and the skirt flies up, revealing his round, perfect ass and his hard, perfect cock—both covered but not really hidden by a layer of red spandex, and Blaine is just...He's just up and out of his chair and before he really knows what he's doing he's jumping on Sam, literally jumping on him. Sam catches him and stumbles backward a couple steps, and Blaine wraps his legs around his waist and tightens each fist around a hunk of hair and kisses him hard.

This isn't...he doesn't want to cheat on Kurt, but whatever's going on feels so much stronger than his own will, it feels inevitable, and maybe that's just an excuse because he _has_ actually wanted to do Sam for, like, forever, but he's going to sort all that out in his mind later...or not...really all he cares about is getting his best friend inside him.

Sam holds and moves Blaine's ass as they grind against each other. _Definitely works with gay dudes_ , he thinks when he realizes he doesn't have any misgivings, not a single one, about wanting to fuck a guy. He has a bit of a misgiving about the fact that Blaine is with Kurt—he isn't really available—but Kurt would understand if he knew about he uniform. He would have to.

"Fuck me, Sam. God, please fuck me."

Sam wants to fuck Blaine more than anything. But he's done anal with Brittany, and he knows you can't just rip someone's clothes off and stick it in. You have to help them get ready, it takes time, and time is the one thing Sam feels like he absolutely does not have.

He maneuvers Blaine to the table, pushes some candles and shit out of the way, and lays him down on his back. He's pretty sure he's going to have to literally rip his pants off because he's wearing this belt that's, like, it's like Kurt locked him up in some medieval chastity device. But Blaine unfastens it himself, and Sam pulls off his uniform spanks. Then, just in case he has to be actually wearing every single part of the uniform for the phlebotinum to do its thing, he ties them around his wrist.

Blaine's nude from the waist down now, and his cock is just so...fucking...amazing...It's not like Sam has never wondered what it would be like to mess around with Blaine, and it's not like his wondering has been strictly idle. And he thought—not that he ever thought the two of them would ever actually do anything, but he thought, hypothetically, that _if_ they did, he would probably enjoy it. But he never in a million years did he think he would be _so_ in love with his friend's cock, and he kind of knows it's just the uniform making him feel that way, but on the other hand it doesn't really feel like it is just that.

But whatever, even if it is just the uniform, he wants Blaine's cock, he _needs_ it. He wants it in his ass, actually, even though that's something he never really thought he'd probably enjoy if given the chance. What stops him from just impaling himself on his friend's dick is that same thing that keeps him from impaling his friend on his: the urgency, his inability to wait. So instead of taking it in his ass he takes it in his mouth.

"Oh god! Sam, oh Jesus, oh god!" Sam's mouth, fuck. Considering all the times Blaine has imagined having his dick in it, there's no way he should be _this_ surprised by how amazing it is. But he is, he's blown away, he's so blown away that it doesn't occur to him that "blown away" is sort of a funny expression, given the situation. Nothing occurs to him, really, except the instinct to arch up and push himself deeper into Sam's mouth.

And Sam can't believe how good Blaine's dick feels in his mouth. It's not just that he doesn't mind it—he fucking _loves_ it. He sucks hard and sloppy and he really wants to taste it all, especially Blaine's come. The only thing that's not totally perfect about this is that he own cock actually hurts, and he's jerking it but that does nothing to relieve the ache.

He doesn't know if Blaine can sense his problem or if Blaine just really wants his cock and much as he wants Blaine's, but either way he wants to kiss Blaine—even though he sort of already is—when Blaine says, "Sam, Sam, sixty-nine me. Come on."

Sam swivels on the table without dropping Blaine's cock from his mouth, and soon he's got his ass in his face and his junk dangling tantalizingly in front of Blaine's mouth. Except that Tantalus was never able to reach his treats, whereas Blaine gets his mouth around his mouthwatering temptation within seconds. Sam's cock is _so_ warm and hard in his mouth, and it tastes _so_ good. Sam's balls rest heavily on Blaine's nose, and Blaine has a super close up view of a totally gorgeous ass, made all the more irresistible by the little skirt frills that it's poking out from.

Blaine _so_ wants to fuck Sam. He wants to fuck Sam and he wants to get fucked by Sam, and there's no way he's going to get to, but he can't be bothered by that too much right now because he's super close to coming in Sam's amazingly awesome mouth.

He should warn Sam—it seems like the polite thing to do when a straight guy is blowing you for reasons that aren't totally clear—but that would involve thinking half a second ahead _and_ letting Sam's cock out of his mouth, neither of which he's prepared to do. By the time he makes a sound that's something like "Mmmff!" he's already unloading into his best friend's mouth. And his best friend starts unloading into his mouth a split second later, and it's so good Blaine's pretty sure they actually levitate and hover over the dining room table for a few seconds.

Blaine swallows Sam's load...and, amazingly, he's pretty sure Sam swallows his. He doesn't feel him leaning over the edge of the table or groping around for a napkin or something to spit into, at any rate.

Sam rolls off him and turns so he's lying on his side and their heads are next to each other. "Believe me now?"

Blaine laughs. "Yeah, I'd say the evidence is pretty irrefutable." He runs his fingers through Sam's hair and pulls his head down for a kiss. Damn, that mouth! It doesn't hurt one bit that Blaine can taste his own spunk on it.

Sam says, "I should probably change out of this thing." But instead of getting off the table he lays his head on Blaine's chest, closes his eyes, and brushes his fingertips up and down his side.

"But not because you're freaked out, right?" Blaine asks. "Because I don't want to be the kind of gay guy who takes advantage of his straight friends."

"Takes ad-...? Dude, I was the one who knew what was going to happen. I _did_ try to warn you..."

Blaine rubs his back and agrees, "You did. You warned me and, through no fault of yours, I didn't listen." His hand is wandering lower on Sam's back as he adds, "You wanna hear a secret?"

"Totally."

"It was a little disappointing. I mean it was _awesome_. It was, honest to god, the best sex I ever had. The only thing that was disappointing was that it was over so fast. I mean, I really wanted to—"

"Me too. I mean, since we're sharing secrets and everything. Not to mention bodily fluids, so...I really wanted you to fuck me too."

Blaine's pretty sure he didn't hear that right. "Wait. You wanted _me_ to...?"

"Well, and I wanted to fuck you too. But, I mean...I've fucked someone before, but I've never... _taken it_ before. So I pretty much can't think of a better way to find out what it's like."

"Damn." Blaine's suddenly aware that his hand is getting awfully close to Sam's butt, and so he stops rubbing his back because he doesn't quite trust himself in light of this new information. "I wish...I mean, I _almost_ wish there were some way to justify doing this again. But, I mean, now that I know..."

"Well it does give me a competitive edge," Sam says. "Each orgasm does. So it would be, like, for the good of the glee club."

"Uh-huh." Blaine is skeptical, to say the least. But then, he was skeptical about the outfit's powers in general, so..."So it supposedly makes you a better singer, or what?"

"I guess? I haven't actually tried that part out yet. You want me to sing something?"

"Yeah. Why don't you?"

Sam slides off the table and Blaine sits on the edge to watch him. Sam starts to sing, and good Lord, how is Blaine supposed to judge whether his singing is objectively better than usual when they just blew each other, when Sam just said he's never been fucked before and he wants Blaine to do it, and now he's wearing this tiny little skirt with nothing underneath it and singing "Like a Virgin"? "Seriously, Sam?"

Sam stops singing. "What? It's not good?"

"Yes, it's good. It's fucking amazing. But I mean, _that_ song?"

"It's the only song that popped into my head." It is kind of weird, now that he thinks about it, considering that he's had sex three times today with three different people.

"We're really doing this, aren't we?" Blaine asks.

"I don't think it's been nineteen minutes yet, so we don't have to," Sam says.

Blaine doesn't know what nineteen minutes has to do with anything, but he's pretty sure Sam's wrong about them not having to do it. Which is not to say that he doesn't want to. _God_ , he wants to! He just has to trust that Kurt will understand when he sees Sam in the uniform. "I have lube in my bedroom," he says, and he takes Sam's hand and leads him up the stairs to his room. He goes to the dresser to get the lube from under a stack of vests, and when he turns around he sees Sam on the bed, head down, ass up. "Oh Jesus Christ."

"I can move if this is no good," Sam says.

"It's good, Sam. It's very good." Blaine kneels behind him on the bed. It's all so astonishingly good he almost doesn't know how to start. After a moment's hesitation he starts with a touch—a gentle touch, a caress, really, starting on Sam's back and moving downward. And he kisses his hip, and Sam sighs, and he kisses some more...

And Sam interrupts him. "Blaine, that's...If we ever mess around just you and me and no uniform, then I'd love for you to do that to me for hours. But the phlebotinum is going to kick in soon, and when it does we're both gonna need for you to fuck me, like, right away. So..."

"The...what? It hasn't kicked in yet?" Blaine is pretty sure he feels the uniform's effects. He _definitely_ wants Sam.

"Well...no. You were there. Didn't it feel more urgent than this before?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"So...from what I'm told, anyway, it's gonna be like _that_ again, approximately nineteen minutes after our orgasms, which were...I dunno, I forgot to look at the time."

" _Approximately_...?" It's possibly the most absurd thing Blaine has ever heard. Except for every other absurd thing Sam has told him about this uniform, all of which have turned out to be true. "Right. I'm on it." He squirts some lube onto his fingers and trusts that he'll know when the nineteen minute mark—the _approximate_ nineteen minute mark—hits.

Sam jumps at the first touch of cold goo on his asshole. But Blaine's fingers are warm and skilled and soon they're working him open in a way that feels really good. One of them is inside him soon, and it's a little foreign and strange but not at all unpleasant. Soon he wants more, and Blaine obliges him with a second finger. He's about to ask Blaine to add one more when he feels the uniform take effect, and he knows that fingers are not going to cut it anymore. "Blaine!" he pleads, and Blaine answers simply, "Yeah."

Blaine's dick was gradually stiffening while he was prepping Sam, but now it's suddenly rock hard, and he totally feels that urgency Sam was talking about. He lubes up his cock and presses it against Sam's waiting entrance. He's all set to just ram it in, but...well, this is Sam's first time, and he's not _that_ well stretched..."Actually I should probably..."

"Oh my god, Blaine, seriously, you have to fuck me right now."

"But what if it hurts?"

"If it hurts too bad we can sixty-nine again. Just...please!"

Ew, ass to mouth, that's gross. But whatever, they can hop in the shower if necessary. But he hopes it won't be necessary, because as awesome as Sam's mouth is, now Blaine really, really wants his ass. He holds Sam's hips and summons all his willpower—he knows he's going to need all of it to enter his best friend _slowly_.

The sensation of Blaine's cock breaching him is _such_ a relief. But then instead of just slamming it home Blaine is just inching it in like a...like a little old lady who's pulling into her garage and she's terrified she's going to crash through the wall or something. "You're not gonna crash through, Blaine."

"What?"

"Go for it, dude! _Fuck me_!"

And there goes all Blaine's willpower, as against his better judgment he follows Sam's order and _fucks him_. Sam screams and pounds his fist against the mattress, but before Blaine can ask if he's okay he says, "Fuck, yeah, like that." Blaine gives up all pretense of self-control and just slams in again and again like a wild animal.

Sam has never felt anything remotely like this, and it hurts, yes, but at the same time it feels just perfect, like his most basic need—one that he never even knew he had—is finally getting filled. Filled like his ass is with Blaine's cock, which just seems so right there. Blaine's cock is nailing this spot hidden deep inside him—he's pretty sure he's going to come without even touching himself. He can't think, he can just feel, and the pleasure is so outpacing the pain—the pain is gone entirely soon, and it's just "So good, so _good_ ," which he's only vaguely aware he's saying out loud.

Blaine's been wanting to come since pretty much the first second he got inside Sam. It's the one thing he is still managing to hold back on, but he's not sure how much longer he can keep it up. Everything about Sam is so perfect. The way he feels— _obviously_. It's not just that he has a perfect tight, virgin asshole, but every movement he makes seems specifically designed to affect Blaine in _just_ the right way. The way he looks—it's Sam, so no surprise, exactly, that he's unbelievably hot, but there's also something about his pose, about the way he's presenting his ass to get fucked...The way he sounds—g _od._ The way he keeps saying _so good, so good_ ; the way Blaine can barely hear him saying that over the creaking of the bed and the slapping of their skin together. There's a scent, even, and it's the scent that's maybe driving him most crazy. Maybe it's the uniform, maybe that's how it works, except it smells so distinctly _Sam_...so distinctly Sam and so distinctly sexual...

"Oh fuck!" There's something about the way Blaine just nailed him and Sam knows he's done for. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck..._ " All his muscles lock up, but at the same time he feels like they're vibrating. The orgasm takes over his whole body, not just his cock, which is spurting copious amount of spunk onto Blaine's comforter, but his fingers, his toes, his scalp...everything.

As soon as Blaine feels Sam's walls constrict around his dick he knows he can't hold off any longer. A cry is ripped from his throat as his cock surges forward, deeper into Sam's ass than should be possible, and fills him with orgasmic juices. His cock pulses and pulses, shooting more and more come into Sam's cavity; even when there's nothing left to shoot out, it keeps twitching and pulsing for a good long while.

Eventually Sam slumps forward and rolls onto his side to avoid the wet spot, and Blaine has to pull out. He cuddles up behind Sam and spoons him and—because why not, after everything else they've just done—kisses the back of his neck. "Mmm, that's nice," Sam says sleepily, and so Blaine does it again.

"Do you wanna take a little nap?" Blaine asks. He could sure go for one.

"Yeah, but...I need to leave or at least change before...I don't think I can do this again in nineteen minutes. Now that we're done it kinda hurts..."

"I'm sorry!" Blaine says.

"Don't be, it was fucking incredible. Totally worth it. I just...wish I didn't have to go all the way downstairs to get my clothes."

"So don't. Just take those off. I'll get your jeans and t-shirt when we wake up."

"Yeah, okay." Sam pulls off the top and skirt and unties the spanks from around his wrist. "This is the first time I've ever gotten undressed in bed with someone to _avoid_ having sex with them." He starts to shove the uniform under a pillow but decides that might be too close to his person. He shoves it under the bed instead.

"Yeah, well, I guess you've had a lot of firsts today," Blaine observes.

"Fact," Sam agrees before they both drift off, snuggled up together.


End file.
